The Edwardian Duke
by sbarra
Summary: A 'What If' variation beginning in 1903 - Darcy is a Duke, Elizabeth is an heiress.
1. Chapter 1

"Did you hear?" Lady Georgiana Darcy exclaimed, bustling into the morning room at Pemberley. "Hawkerton Hall has been let at last!"

"Oh, do be careful, my dear!" the Dowager Duchess admonished her, as Georgiana almost unsettled the tea tray being carried by one of their elderly maids.

Lady Georgiana slowed her steps and then tried to sit with aplomb between her brother and mother.

Lady Anne smiled serenely over her teacup, "Now, my dear, what we're you in such a rush to tell us?"

"Hawkerton Hall! Someone has taken it! May I ride over, Mama? Fitzwilliam?" she looked imploringly towards her brother who was still insisting on reading 'The Times' despite her numerous attempts to gain his attention.

"Let's hope that they have not been taken for a ride," The Duke of Derbyshire drily observed from behind his newspaper.

"Oh, Fitzwilliam!" his mother chortled. "I am sure that whoever has taken it was well aware of the rising damp and woodworms!" The Dowager Duchess clucked her tongue. "They must be a noble family bent on restoring it to its former grandeur. I'm not sure if I approve of all these 'improvements' and…"

"They are in trade!" Georgiana exclaimed. "Oh, it shall be so diverting! Remember how Papa used to say that what this county needed was 'new blood' and…"

"Please don't interrupt, dearest," Lady Anne said tersely, cutting her off. She was well aware of her late husband's predilections for 'new blood.' 

"What do you know of them?" Darcy asked, wishing that his sister's lower lip would stop trembling.

"Well, the lady of the house grew up in Lambton. Her husband, a Mr Edward Gardiner, having made his fortune in the manufacturing of iron and steel, now brings her back to the charming manor house that she long admired. It is ever so romantic!"

Lady Anne's wrinkled nose almost made the Duke laugh, but he allowed his sister to continue. Georgiana surely had never been inside Hawkerton Hall to know that despite it having a "lovely façade" and "sweeping views of the River Derwent", its inside was a crumbling and rotting maelstrom. She also knew little of the reality of life: his mother was extremely unlikely to allow her to associate with people of low breeding.

"We surely will not move in the same circles!" the Dowager Duchess was chastising her daughter.

"Oh, Mama! It is 1903! Must we live in the past?"

"Your Grace," Lady Anne tipped her head deferentially to her son. "Shall we live by the traditions that have held our family in good stead since the Tudor dynasty, or shall we 'be diverting' and bow down to 'new blood'?"

"I did not say that we would 'bow down', Mama!" Georgiana exclaimed petulantly and then lowered her voice when she saw her brother's raised eyebrows. "I merely thought it would be refreshing to sit to tea with people who are not three times my age. That… that is all."

The Duke of Derbyshire sometimes found it amusing to unsettle his mother's ordered world. She had trained him to be more attentive to matters of the dukedom and estate business than to the bordello or the bottle - unlike his late father. Every now and then, Darcy liked to obstinately remind his mother that, however much she felt he was bound by her apron strings, he was his own man. On this occasion, however, he shook his head firmly and returned to the Stock Market section of the newspaper. The news was not good; money was tight and if he had been a 16-year-old girl, he may well have joined his melodramatic sister on the settee.

Georgiana sulked and was in an ill-humour all day. She was, however, able to glean some more information about their new neighbours. Miss Mary Blaustrumpf, her governess, had spent her Sunday afternoon with a friend at Lambton and heard much news about the new family. In between conjugating French verbs and her embroidery, Georgiana was able to pry this further information from the clutches of the strict, German governess.

Mr Edward Gardiner owned a home in Gracechurch Street in Cheapside. Despite amassing a fortune, he saw no need to move his family to a more fashionable part of London. He cared little about such things. He loved his wife, Mrs Madeline Gardiner, very much. They had four young children – two were boys and two were girls. He also had two wards who were a few years older than Georgiana. They were his sister's children and when  
her husband died, he had taken his nieces under his protection.

Miss Jane Bennet was 22 and Miss Elizabeth Bennet was 20. They were both considered to be 'beautiful' and 'kindly'. This made Georgiana even more excited to make the family's acquaintance. To think that, within ten miles of Pemberley, there were young women who would add intrigue to the monotony of her everyday life!

"If you complete your German work, I shall allow you to play the piano," Mary Blaustrumpf offered.

Georgiana readily agreed and was soon playing her favourite tunes on the piano and thinking of the new young women and wondering when she would have a chance to meet them. Surely, it would only be 'proper' to take a welcome basket to people so close to their estate! No, Mama would think that was the role of the rector's wife at Kympton. Perhaps the new family would attend Church! No, Mama would merely make a polite greeting and then not extend their acquaintance.

Unknown to Georgiana, her brother was making the acquaintance of one of Mr Gardiner's nieces at that very moment. He had ridden out on estate business, and was circling back towards his ducal home, when he heard a sharp cry of pain. Thinking it might very well be his sister crying out (as he was quite close to Hawkerton Hall) he dismounted and called her name.

"Help!" a woman called out in reply. "I am over here. Please help. Hello?"

Darcy tied his horse's reins around a thick oak tree and then walked further down the wooded path. A pretty, young lady was sitting in a thicket, clutching her ankle.

"Good afternoon," Darcy said approaching her, but she cut him off before he could introduce himself as the Master of Pemberley, let alone the Duke of Derbyshire.

Taking in his neatly pressed riding clothes, she was relieved. She did not want some yeoman taking advantage of her in the woods!

Assuming he worked for one of the local landowners, she asked, "Would you please take me to my Uncle's home? I fear that I have sprained my ankle. He will write a note to your Master so that you will not be disciplined for…"

"My Master?" Darcy could not help saying allowed, flabbergasted that she did not think him of noble birth. It was particularly galling because he knew that she was merely the niece of a manufacturer!

"All will be well with your master," she assured him.

Darcy decided to deal with the matter as promptly as possible so that he could quickly depart from the presumptuous girl's company. He effortlessly bent down and picked her up. She smoothed her skirt around her shapely legs as he carried her to his horse. Placing her in a sidesaddle position, he showed her where to hold on and then took the reins, walking the steed towards her Uncle's accommodation.

"You didn't tell me your name," she said into the silence that had fallen between them.

"It's Fitzwilliam," he replied simply.

"Thank you ever so much for your assistance, Mr Fitzwilliam," she said genuinely.

He glanced back up at her as they reached Hawkerton Hall and nodded politely in acknowledgement.

"Lizzy!" a portly gentleman called out as they neared the small stables. "Whatever is the matter?"

"Uncle Edward!" she called back. "I'm quite well, I just twisted my ankle when I was out on my afternoon ramble."

A stable lad came running and helped her to dismount, promptly carrying her towards a group of women and children. Edward Gardiner worriedly followed his niece. He turned back to thank the man who had brought her home. Darcy tipped his hat, mounted his horse and gambled off back to Pemberley, thinking that if they had known that he was a Duke then they would have invited him in. He was quite sick of social climbers trying to ensnare him for some one or other of their daughters or nieces.


	2. Chapter 2

As soon as Elizabeth's ankle was strapped and Jane had plumped the cushions behind her back, their Uncle knelt beside the chaise lounge.

"You must write a card to thank the Duke at once!" he exclaimed. "We cannot afford to anger such a prestigious gentlemen, particularly not as the landed gentry hereabouts would look up to such a personage!"

"I had no idea he was a Duke!" Elizabeth exclaimed, quite perturbed at Darcy for not having corrected her misguided assumption. "His clothes were clean, but rather simple. He was dressed much like one of your hired men, Uncle!"

"We are quite near his ducal estate, my dear," her Uncle reminded her.

"Perhaps he does not dress in finery when he is close to home," Jane surmised.

"Oh, he was so handsome!" Jemima suddenly recollected, deciding that she would have her share in the conversation. After all, she was almost eleven.

Mrs Gardiner shooed the children back out of doors. She had quite enough to organise, what with the renovations and the meals, without them constantly being under foot. 

As she was closing the door, in order to block out the sounds of the tradesmen's hammers, it dawned on Mrs Gardiner that it had, indeed, been the Duke who had helped their niece home on his horse. He had the same dark, curly hair and hazel eyes of his late father.

Mrs Gardiner began to search through a box that she had only recently had moved into the small drawing room. She located stationery and her typewriter. Setting herself up at the small writing table, Mrs Gardiner tried to think about how to word the letter.

"If you ask me," Elizabeth pouted, "Dukes are relics of a past full of grand estates, excess and a disregard for the poor."

Edward Gardiner snorted, "Without his grand estate, many would be homeless and hungry, my dearest niece. There are hundreds of people dependent on his good management."

"Indeed," his wife agreed. "The Duke of Derbyshire is a young man much burdened with scruples. I am sure that I have read much about him in the society pages," Mrs Gardiner told her nieces, who were most curious about the gentleman.

"One always must read between the lines in the society pages!" Elizabeth quipped. "Those editors deter defamation most assiduously!"

Jane looked flummoxed, "Why would he not proudly proclaim that he is a Duke to all and sundry?"

"As I was saying," Madeline Gardiner continued, "He has scruples and burdens upon his conscience. This was probably due to the fact that his father, the late Duke, had had none."

"I wonder what 'His Grace' would think of the society pages," Elizabeth replied.

Her Aunt ignored her attempt to tease her. "When I was a girl playing near the Smithy in Lambton, I would often see the old Duke spending money on his vices. Imagine what the Duke's boyhood was like!"

"So, he is very sensible because his father was somewhat negligent?" Jane asked.

"Indeed," Mrs Gardiner replied. "I'm sure that this young Duke hopes that, by devoting all his time and most of his faculties to the care of his estates and the personal supervision of his budget, he could reduce his cost of living without altering its style."

"Perhaps he will marry an American," Elizabeth yawned. "The society pages are full of such 'fairytales'!"

"Lizzy!" Jane exclaimed, "You are being most uncharitable!"

"Well," Elizabeth looked slightly abashed by her older sister's admonishment. "Let me dictate my letter to our lovely Aunt, then, shall I?"

An hour later, Elizabeth was cossetted into their Uncle's carriage between Jane and Aunt Madeline. On their way to Pemberley, the Duke of Derbyshire's estate, they drove through a very large park. The ladies drove for some time through a beautiful wood, stretching over a wide extent.

Elizabeth's mind was too full for conversation, but she saw and admired every remarkable spot and point of view. They gradually ascended for half a mile, and then found themselves at the top of a considerable eminence, where the wood ceased, and the eye was instantly caught by Pemberley House, situated on the opposite side of a valley, into which the road, with some abruptness, wound.

It was a large, handsome, Georgian stone building, standing well on rising ground, and backed by a ridge of high woody hills; and in front, a stream of some natural importance was swelled into greater, but without any artificial appearance. Its banks were neither formal, nor falsely adorned. Elizabeth was delighted. She had never seen a place for which nature had done more, or where natural beauty had been so little counteracted by an awkward taste. Hawkerton Hall, with all its narrow passageways and rising damp, had nothing on this place. Then again, Elizabeth thought to herself, perhaps it contained many moulding edifices and rotting wood, after all, the upkeep on such a large home would require a great deal of capital!

Their carriage descended the hill, crossed the bridge, and drove to the door; and, while examining the nearer aspect of the house, all her apprehensions of meeting its owner returned. What kind of a Duke wore simple clothes and rode about on his horse attending to business alone! On receipt of their note, they were admitted into the hall; and, after a short delay, a respectable-looking, elderly woman bustled towards them.

"I am Mrs Reynolds, His Grace's housekeeper," she informed them. "Unfortunately, his Mama is poorly, but he thanks you for your kind note and will be sure to return the call in due course."

Relief flooded through Elizabeth. She would not have to exchange pleasantries with the gentleman who had embarrassed her by not revealing his identity. Leaning on a cane, she limped after her Aunt and sister out of the large hall and back into the sunlight. Elizabeth heard a squeal of delight and turned to see a young woman of about sixteen years of age. She was wearing the finest riding habit that Elizabeth had ever seen.

"Lady Georgiana," the housekeeper greeted her. "Your Mama and brother are ill-disposed for guests."

"Pish posh! I am not!" the girl exclaimed exuberantly.

Elizabeth strained her ears to hear the housekeeper's rebuke of the young lady, but to no avail.

"Excuse me?" Georgiana called, reaching them and appearing graceful even when she was straining to keep up.

Madeline Gardiner stopped and the housekeeper, looking harried, came to make the introductions. When they had all exchanged names, Georgiana invited them on a turn about the garden. Elizabeth explained that her injury would curtail such a pleasure. Instead, they sat on a lovely marble bench overlooking the delightful grounds.

"It was quite gallant of Fitzwilliam to help you, Miss Bennet," Georgiana said, smiling fondly. "He rarely stops when he is riding home."

"Yes, it was most kind," Elizabeth replied, upon being nudged by Jane.

After a quarter of an hour, the housekeeper came to tell Georgiana that she was wanted upstairs.

"You know that they do not want you to form an acquaintance with that family, my dear," Mrs Reynolds told Georgiana, thinking she was out of the other ladies range of hearing.

"I am not at all sorry," Georgiana was heard to retort, "I don't care of their Uncle is in trade. They are very pleasant ladies!"

"I told you so," Elizabeth muttered to her Aunt and her sister. "The Duke considers us too far beneath him! That is why he did not introduce himself!"

"Indeed," Madeline Gardiner replied sadly, putting an end to Elizabeth's cynical assertions. She limped after Jane who was comforting their Aunt's wounded pride.


	3. Chapter 3

Georgiana waited for the morning post with the determination of a colonel awaiting further instructions in a very important campaign. Darcy smiled reassuringly at her, wondering if it was a particular cousin's correspondence that she was pining for. Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam was almost as poor a correspondent as his other best friend, Charles Bingley. Both were engaged in various business pursuits in London and he much preferred being at Pemberley than paying the vast bills that they always amassed at his city residence in Park Lane. Heating the place, along with purchasing the latest fashions for his mother and sister, as well as catering for their circle's expensive tastes at table, worried him excessively.

He often joked about his pockets having holes in them; something that the Duke of Devonshire always chortled about on such occasions. He could well understand; the taxes that gentlemen, such as themselves, paid were enough to allow King Edward to bathe in the finest French champagne every day of the year! In fact, 'Bertie' could probably keep each of his mistresses in the finest hotels bathing in exotic wines! The death duties for Darcy's father's demise alone had almost bankrupted the Duke's estates, particularly as they had already been burdened by the late Duke's extravagances. This had lead to Darcy selling five thousand acres of land and his three treasured Shakespearean folios. He still wasn't sure which had been the most painful to part with!

Darcy uncomfortably tugged at his heavily starched collar. Their country estate had enough bills of its own. He had tightened the purse strings the previous winter, much to his mother's chagrin. The new Duke had insisted that they all move into the same wing of the house and that, although servants would air the other wings, there was no need to bear the expense of heating them. Darcy was most assiduous in dismissing servants who shirked their duties, leading his mother to worry that they would soon have less than fifty servants left to wait on them. He would much rather care for his tenants than 'keep up appearances' by having more than seventy-five full-time staff. Darcy sighed and, seeking a distraction, turned to the next page of 'The Times'. Unfortunately, it was the Stock Exchange listings that greeted his weary eyes. Georgiana glanced up, seeing his expression becoming even dourer, as he surveyed the details.

Darcy cursed under his breath. There were significant losses for more than five of his holdings. The New York exchange was faring far better; no wonder the Duke of Marlborough had been crowing about the Vanderbilt millions in his last correspondence. Darcy glanced out of the morning room's elegantly adorned windows and tried to imagine riding about the splendid English countryside with an American heiress. Would they have enough in common? Would she understand the traditions, which he held so dear; the foundations of his ordered life? He shook his head as if to clear it. Darcy knew that the Dowager Duchess would never approve of him following the fashion and marrying an American heiress. His late father's affair with the crass Mrs Philadelphia Steele had been the talk of London for two seasons and had mortified his mother's pride and delicate sensibilities. Darcy cringed and turned a page; he assumed that had been the late Duke's purpose. The animosity between his parents still created tensions for their family. He often felt that he was not able to truly mourn for his father's death, lest he offend his Mama. He had overheard her complaining to one of His Aunt's about the need to wear black crepe for another three months to satisfy the stringent two-year period that members of the Peerage observed. Darcy watched his mother admiring a lavender gown in 'The Lady's Realm' magazine.

Georgiana sprang up from the table when one of the footmen entered carrying the silver salver. His mother's disapproving cough saw his sister attempt to sit back down and 'stop fidgeting' while Darcy sorted the correspondence into three piles. He remembered in his grandfather's day that he would have had to sit and wait until the Duke had finished reading each of his letters before he was allowed to enquire if he had received one. Wanting to see a bright smile on his sister's face, however, he flicked through the envelopes, looking for the Colonel's familiar scrawl.

"Our cousin has neglected to write," he informed her sympathetically.

"Is there one from Hawkerton Hall?" she asked excitedly.

Darcy raised his eyebrows in surprise and then reached for the last missive in the pile. The handwriting was neat and the envelope had a pretty floral border. He quickly engaged his mother in a conversation about her letter from Lady Catherine, to allow Georgiana some privacy to read her letter. He glanced over at her, wondering at why she cared so much about the good opinion of the Bennet sisters and their family. It seemed to him that she dearly wished to have young ladies around her; however, weren't these two far beneath her notice. Why, they weren't even members of the peerage!

"Oh, look Fitzwilliam!" she gushed happily, handing it to him.

_April 1st, 1903_

_Dear Lady Georgiana,_

_Thank you for your letter. It was a pleasure to hear from you. I, too, was delighted by the very brief time that I spent at Pemberley. The grounds are so beautiful, and, from the several moments we spent in the entrance hall, I could see that your family has an exquisite art collection. I was honoured to make your acquaintance, my lady. I am sorry that your brother was called away to attend to your mother. My Aunt had so wished to thank him in person for assisting me in the woods. I do hope that Her Grace is now, once again, in good health. Thank you for asking after my slight injury. I find that my sprain is much recovered. Being trapped indoors is quite vexing! My Uncle, who is quite inventive, has rigged me up a wheelchair so that I may sit in the gardens to read and take tea. He has been ever so kind to me since I lost my Papa two years ago. My dear Aunt and Uncle Gardiner are such wonderful, educated and well-travelled people. I do hope that your mother will overcome her impediments and be able to return my Aunt's call soon so that you may visit with Jane and I at Hawkerton Hall. _

_Yours truly, _

_Elizabeth Bennet. _

"May we please pay a call on them, brother?" Georgiana asked sweetly.

"I do not think it is for the best…" the Duke began to reply. Reading between the lines he could see that his mother's 'cut' along with the feigned illness had caused a major affront to the young woman.

His mother, however, interrupted Darcy's objections to associating with the new residents. Lady Anne passed him her letter from Lady Matlock and his opinion began to change.

_April 1st 1903._

_Dearest Lady Anne,_

_I was intrigued when I received your description of your observations of the new family in the county. I have made it my mission to seek out further particulars about the Gardiner's and the Bennet's and I must say, that I rather hope that I can become better acquainted with them. Mr Edward Gardiner has made a vast fortune in iron and steel, sister. In fact, his investments in both London and New York see his name mentioned among the Rockefeller's and Vanderbilt's. In fact, the Viscount was able to ascertain that he is a business associate of Mr Andrew Carnegie, who led the enormous expansion of the American steel industry at the end of the last century! Oh, my sister, I am not sure if this Mr Gardiner is very sensible when it comes to social machinations! Fancy not purchasing a home in Belgrave Square, and why, oh why, would he wish to renovate Hawkerton Hall, when there are estates for sale beyond Chatsworth! But he is certainly rich and his nieces are generally held to have large dowries! What a fine thing for our sons! I do not know a precise figure, unfortunately, but perhaps, his wife, Madeline Gardiner, will be more forthcoming! The Bennet sisters seem, from all accounts, to be pretty, if not refined, English ladies. We shall see if they are 'worth' our attention, shan't we?_

_Praying for you after your recent illness,_

_Lady Matlock._

"Shall I make the arrangements for all three of us to go to Hawkerton Hall to pay a morning call?" Lady Anne asked.

Darcy, despite a look of consternation, nodded to the Dowager Duchess and Georgiana squealed in triumph. Whatever the Countess' letter had revealed meant that she would soon be conversing with the friendly and diverting, young ladies once more!


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

****To her credit, Madeline Gardiner greeted the Darcy's at Hawkerton Hall as if there had not been any attempt, on their part, to escape the acquaintance. Far from acting like she had been slighted by 'the cut direct', Mrs Gardiner busied herself making introductions, ordering refreshments and ensuring that her honoured guests were comfortable.

"I am afraid that my dear husband has taken the children into Lambton," Mrs Gardiner explained. "We have four and they were rather getting under the feet of the tradesmen and decorators." 

"Perhaps, they could visit the lake at Pemberley for a picnic one day," the Dowager Duchess offered. "They should not be under foot there. We have ample grounds."

"I am most honoured by such an invitation," Mrs Gardiner replied.

"How is your ankle, Miss Bennet?" the Duke asked, turning from the window to address Elizabeth.

"It is much improved," Elizabeth replied politely, despite his disconcerting mode of address. "Thank you, once again, for your aid."

Darcy noticed that she averted her gaze and spoke in a demure manner that was very different to their first meeting in the woods. No doubt, now that they all knew of his family's prestige, she had been schooled to stop her pouting and impertinent remarks. To his surprise, he found himself wishing that she did not know of his status amongst the peerage. Elizabeth had been a breath of fresh air.

His sister, disliking being indoors and having to sit quietly and discuss mundane matters, like the weather and the renovations, asked the Dowager Duchess if the younger people could take a turn about the lovely gardens. Her mother was inclined to decline most of Georgiana's requests; however, this time Lady Anne agreed because it would give her the opportunity to try to perceive the size of the Bennet girl's dowries.

"Mind, don't walk into the woods, and take your brother. I don't want you ladies to get hurt," Lady Anne smiled serenely.

Darcy saw right through her, but he would rather be out of doors than feel the ladies' eyes scrutinising him. Georgiana immediately contrived for him to take Miss Jane Bennet's arm, whilst she pushed Elizabeth in the wheelchair her Aunt had insisted upon them taking.

"Are you fond of music, Miss Bennet?" Darcy asked Jane.

"I am," Jane answered, smiling widely, "my sister plays beautifully. I can barely play a note. As the eldest, I was always seeing to something or other to help Mama."

"How many children were there in your family?" Darcy asked.

"Four girls," Jane replied. "Unfortunately the same malaise that took Papa also took Kitty. Mama and the youngest daughter, Lydia, still live at our family home, Longbourn, near Meryton in Hertfordshire. Uncle rented it from the rightful heir for the term of Mama's life. It was ever so kind of him."

"Indeed," Darcy replied. "Have you visited Lambton?"

She described visiting a dress shop near 'The Bull'. Darcy found her to be pleasant company, but there was something he disliked about her. Even for such a beautiful lady, she smiled too much. He realised after three quarters of an hour that he had already grown bored of her: she was mundane. Nearly all of her responses to his questions followed the expected pattern.

"Look at this, Fitzwilliam!" Georgiana called.

He nodded to Miss Bennet and then hurried his steps.

"Is this not a brilliant perspective from which to view the Derwent?" Georgiana exclaimed.

"It is lovely," he agreed, his eyes falling on Elizabeth as she admired the brilliance of the view.

He watched her standing up and was quickly at her side.

"There is no need to worry, Your Grace," she smiled in such a way that he knew was not natural for her. "I am quite well. I just cannot yet walk some distance unaided. I am sure I can stand without falling."

"All the same," Darcy replied in a clipped tone, "I would like to take you back safely to your Aunt. Take my arm while you admire the view."

A warning look from Jane seemed to settle the matter and she begrudgingly took his arm. Georgiana contrived to leave the two of them alone, pointing out a thicket of wildflowers and requesting Jane's company whilst picking a bunch.

"Do you like art, Miss Bennet?" Mr Darcy began after an awkward silence.

She tested her ankle whilst keeping her arm in his. "I do, sir."

"What type of art do you like, Miss Bennet?" he continued.

"I think my favourite painting of recent years is Henry Scott Tuke's 'Ruby, Gold and Malachite'."

Darcy was surprised that she could utter such a controversial sentence whilst keeping a straight face. He remembered the previous summer, when Bingley and Fitzwilliam had disagreed over whether a painting depicting so many naked males, should be on display at the Royal Academy. He did not want Elizabeth to know that he was shocked and impressed by her unconventional answer.

"Oh, you are fond of the seaside," he replied, showing bemusement rather than shock. "I quite like Claude Monet's 'Two Girls in a Boat'. I am used to much calmer waters than those chartered by Mr Tuke." He nodded his head towards the Derwent and she found herself smiling, not out of forced politeness, but out of genuine amusement at his way of twisting her challenging response into one that reflected the storm that Tuke's painting had stirred up in polite society and also reminded her of the beautiful swirling waters before them.

"Will you not let me take you for a spin, Miss Elizabeth?" the Duke asked, indicating the wheelchair.

He seemed genuinely concerned about her injured ankle. Feeling surprisingly touched by this, she sat in the wheelchair once more. He bent forward solicitously helping her to tuck the blanket back around her skirts.

"Now, I must tell you about when I saw Mr Tuke's painting." Darcy continued, feeling confident to speak openly with her. After all, she had made it clear that, when not under observation, she cared little for playing polite charades or tipping her hat at his title and estate. "Personally I liked the way that the artist had been able to blend red, yellow and green tones with such mastery. I thought little about the naked figures, after all, Michaelangelo's 'David' is a masterpiece and he is not wearing a stitch of clothing."

"That was my point exactly!" Elizabeth exclaimed, turning her head to gaze up at him as they walked.

"I agree. Why are the ancient and medieval artists allowed to portray the masculine or feminine form in its natural state, whilst modern artists are denied the opportunity?"

"Freedom of expression is part of every civilised society," Elizabeth agreed with him, her fine eyes bright with this opportunity to truly discuss art.

"What did you like most about it?" Darcy asked, stopping for a moment to face her, whilst helping her to readjust her shawl.

"I liked how open its meaning was. Mr Tuke's painting was so ambiguous. Was it a representation of people not being self-conscious about society's rules and fashions because they were truly enjoying the natural setting? Was it an image of a lost rural idyll?"

"Indeed," Darcy replied. "I had one friend with me, his name is Charles Bingley, who argued exactly that. He is from York, but spends most of his days in stuffy offices in London. My other friend, however, greatly disliked the painting."

"Why?" Elizabeth asked, gazing back at him as they began another turn around the meandering garden path.

"My cousin, Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam (his family's estate is nearby – at Matlock), disliked the painting because he read into it that these sons of empire were free of militarism; we're free to frolic instead of fighting in the Boer War. He had only recently returned from the Cape," Darcy explained.

"Wouldn't he prefer for the young men he saw on the battlefield to have been at home and free to frolic?" Elizabeth pondered aloud.

"I believe," Darcy hesitated, "I believe that is why he fights. He is convinced that there are threats to the peaceful enjoyment of our land, and that he must make sacrifices to preserve the Britain we know and love. I admire my cousin a great deal. He allows me to speak of my father in a way that my mother does not."

"I lost my Papa and my mother does not understand the depth of my grief either," Elizabeth said, almost incredulous in finding someone who had experienced the same constraints at such a difficult time.

"Life is but a walking shadow, a poor player, that struts and frets his hour upon the stage and then is heard no more," Darcy said thoughtfully.

"Macbeth," Elizabeth identified the quote at once. "I love Shakespeare."

"I do, too," Darcy replied quietly. "He understood the human condition and expressed it so well."

Elizabeth nodded. She was surprised that Darcy had shared his opinions on personal matters, and also that he had mentioned a political controversy. So few gentlemen talked to ladies of real matters. It was one reason why Elizabeth valued her Uncle so much.

Like her late father, the Duke spoke to her of all his concerns – political, business and personal ones. Both of her mentors – Thomas Bennet and Edward Gardiner - had seen no need to shelter a young lady with such a lively from the world beyond her front gate. Darcy did not interrupt her reverie, content to walk along in contemplative silence.

"You two are very quiet," Georgiana called as the neared the corner of the path beside the thicket of wildflowers.

Darcy smiled and he saw Elizabeth do the same. He hoped that she was thinking that they had plenty to say to each other when given future opportunities.

A/N: Please review.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

The first time that Elizabeth and Jane had visited Lambton's Millinery shop, the elderly owner had watched them like a hawk. Jane's attempts at polite conversation were met with curt responses. Elizabeth, trying to find a particular type of lace, felt like she was being seen as a Dickensian pickpocket! The lady's obvious mistrust of the strangers had not even lessened when their Aunt Gardiner had caught up with them, and reminded Mrs Galsworthy that they had been neighbours in her youth.

Elizabeth had joked on the carriage ride home that even after spending over a hundred pounds on the latest fashions, Mrs Galsworthy had still acted as if they were not 'worthy' to step foot in the small shop. Her Aunt Gardiner explained that people in Lambton were very set in their ways.

The next time they visited Lambton's Millinery shop, they were in the esteemed company of the Dowager Duchess, Lady Georgiana and the Countess of Matlock. There were so many curtsies that Elizabeth feared that the elderly Mrs Galsworthy would do herself an injury. Aunt Madeline again spoke fondly to the shopkeeper and, this time, Mrs Galsworthy's responses were remarkably different. Elizabeth was appalled that having a few people 'of rank' with them would change the woman's manners so much.

"Your Grace," Mrs Galsworthy crooned, "only you could carry off the latest in boating fashions."

Elizabeth was appalled. Her Aunt had bought a similar hat and had not had anyone purring in her ear!

The Dowager Duchess simply gave a slight flick of the wrist and a shopgirl quickly wrapped up the hat, tying exquisite ribbons around the box.

"I hope you enjoy your day," Mrs Galsworthy prattled, seeing them all out of doors with yet more curtsies.

"The gall of her!" Elizabeth quipped to Jane when they were all once more settled in the large carriage and on their way back to Pemberley.

"Lizzy," her Aunt tutted.

"Well, she barely acknowledged your existence last week," Elizabeth shot back, clearly annoyed.

"Perhaps," Darcy's Aunt ventured, watching Jane patting her sister's hand. "Seeing you with people so well-known in the county put her mind at rest."

"I suppose you're right, Lady Matlock," Elizabeth replied and her relations gave a notable sigh of relief, until she continued. "If the rector's wife had been with us then her behaviour would have been just as pleasant."

Lady Matlock looked visibly shocked and Lady Georgiana tried to hide her smile. The Dowager Duchess, meanwhile, ignored Elizabeth's cutting indictment on people of higher birth being given special treatment. Instead, she engaged Jane in a discussion about her horse-riding lessons and embroidery.

Elizabeth was not fussed by being thus excluded. She could not think of anything more boring than discussing horses or sewing. Elizabeth winked at Lady Georgiana and then lost herself in the beautiful blur of the countryside and woods.

When they arrived back at Pemberley, it was clear that the Duke and his cousins had been busy. Four large rowing boats were being industriously cleaned by a multitude of servants while the gentlemen polished their oars. The ladies were not immediately taken down to the large lake. First, the older ladies decided that they were much in need of tea and crumpets. Elizabeth did her best to not say anything too controversial while they sipped the warm brew from the exquisite china cups. Elizabeth, used to only having one or two housemaids, wondered how many servants exactly the Duke had. More than that, she wondered whether they all liked their jobs or whether they felt trapped by unjust circumstances.

"Penny for your thoughts, Miss Eliza?" Lady Matlock asked after a lull in the conversation.

"I was wondering when the house was built," Elizabeth lied.

"It dates to Tudor times," Darcy's Aunt replied.

Elizabeth merely nodded and Lady Matlock turned to ask about the renovations at their 'dear, little manor house.' Elizabeth realised that she was supposed to remark on Pemberley's grandeur, but she was sick of the charade. It was clear that over recent weeks these women, save Georgiana, had only taken an interest in them because their Uncle would settle seven hundred thousand pounds on each she and Jane when they married. Her Aunt had openly told the Dowager Duchess, hoping that one of the local landowners would court her nieces. Little had Aunt Madeline known that the Duchess and the Countess were in need of funds and would try to advance their own son's pocketbooks.

Elizabeth had even heard, through the servant's tittle-tattle one evening that the Bennet girl's dowries were worth more than twice as much as Lady Georgiana's. Late Mr Darcy had settled 300 000 pounds on his daughter. Elizabeth found this ridiculous and began to wonder if Mrs Galsworthy's kindness was partly due to the fact that the Gardiner's and Bennet's – although nouveau riche – were wealthy beyond even many of the landed gentry hereabouts. Elizabeth appreciated all the more her Uncle's decision not to buy a home in Berkley Square. She did not want to feel like a duck being hunted for her plumes anymore than she already did under the steady gaze of Darcy's relations. At least Georgiana was genuinely friendly; she couldn't give a fig what money or titles people had. Elizabeth liked her more and more each day.

Today, she would meet Lady Matlock's sons and undoubtedly they would make eyes at her and Jane that they would not have done if they had been the nieces of an impoverished tradesman. Did nobody care about the virtues of her Aunt or the intelligence of their Uncle? It seemed so hypocritical to look down on people of 'low birth' unless one could profit from them. There was much more to them than their investment portfolio. Elizabeth had known their kindnesses before the boom, which had made her Uncle rich, and she was grateful that their desire to provide for she and Jane had been constant yet, particularly after her father's untimely death.

Looking out the window towards the men by the lake, Elizabeth had begun to doubt her changed estimation of the Duke of Derbyshire's merits. On a few rambles, he had seemed like such a witty conversationalist, despite his somewhat stiff manners. Now, she wondered if he was simply playing a game – wanting to impress her in order to secure funds to refurbish his estate. Did he like her personally, or did he want her Uncle's dividends paid into his personal account?

Thankfully when Elizabeth again paid attention to the conversation in the morning room, Jane was speaking eloquently about her desire to travel around the Peak District. When informed of the gentlemen's readiness by a butler, Elizabeth followed the ladies back out of doors. Lady Georgiana linked arms with her as they made their way down the slope.

As if the order of precedence had to be respected at all times, Lady Matlock waited until her eldest son had finished his conversation with Darcy before beginning the introductions. This was despite the fact that her younger son was clearly awaiting a chance to be introduced to Aunt Madeline, Jane and Elizabeth.

Lady Matlock proudly introduced 'the Viscount Rakely', James Fitzwilliam, who was her husband, the Earl of Matlock's heir. He was tall and had dark, wavy hair like Darcy, but that is where the similarities ended. His eyes, rather than being hazel, were blue and piercing. His stance was confident and he had no trouble complimenting the ladies as he met each of them. Elizabeth immediately had the impression that he was not to be trusted. The way his eyes lingered on Jane's figure made her uncomfortable for a start. The Dowager Duchess and the Countess seemed to think he was utterly charming – a fact that made Elizabeth even less under his spell.

Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam, on the other hand, seemed less bold, but more considerate. He fussed over Georgiana's shawl, which was blowing loose in the breeze. He listened carefully to all that people said to him and did not act like he deserved to be pleased as the Viscount did. Elizabeth was asking him about the Boer War charity, which Darcy had told her they had established to help wounded veterans, when she heard her name. She looked up and saw Darcy walking towards her, his oars under his arm. The Duke apologised that Jane had already been promised berth in his boat. She was much more shy than Miss Elizabeth and not as sure of the water. Besides, as he meant to race his older cousin, his mother had counselled him not to take Elizabeth due to her injured ankle. Elizabeth attempted to smile, stepping easily into the Colonel's boat. There was no longer anything wrong with her foot. It was clear that either Darcy had set his sights on her prettier and sweeter sister, or his scheming Mama had.

A/N: Please review.


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